Do I wish to live among them?
Sometimes “yes”, most often “no”.
In that mix of grazers grazing,
Until they’re told it’s time to go.
Would I let them sheer me?
Feed me? Breed me?
In some other life,
Perhaps, who knows?
But terms like “trending topics”
Tend to wound my very soul.
And only rarely have I found another
Who can understand my goal.

But halt!

I fear that I can take no more,
My cup has already overflowed.

the sun spills warmth
across the countryside
and the flowers smile

waving their tiny leaf hands
to greet the new day

so I smile with whispers of love
as if the wildflowers are my children.

the elusive thrushes
hidden among the bowing willows

whisper sweet songs.

the tiny bird angels
not so far off.

those tiny angels

far from the silences that **** you inside.

Say hello to June, come greet each floral scent that fills your hearts and noses  
it is time to put away your winter garbs & lose yourselves in leaves and roses

June, a month of gentle starts as the days get longer filled with golden light
we oft renew our  garden vows, planting seeds of joy wherever we go  

"Oh! Flowery Month of June, sing to us a song of hope & gentle care,  
as you lead us through the garden path of life with truth and dare...

With each rising bran new day comes the promise of a new tomorrow
help us embrace the moments that come to us without deep sorrow

Goodbye May Hello June, like those lovely strawberries I see grow in June,  
I am longing for serene enchanting nights, beneath your strawberry moon.

In the dessert she did grow
like a rose without a thorn
shooting up towards the sun
Sofia's rose is next to none

In the sand a jewel bright
lost inside a sky so blue
aiming for the heaart
she rose, like a speckled rose  

Blooming without rain she did
in the font of her sweet-heart
wells of happiness did grow  
inside Sofia's heart, airflow !

the light flutters like ribbons,
the light gold leaf and flickering

amber, the light tenuous in her
gentleness, slumbering with her whims

and her sleep of blue earth, and air,
breath of joy, breath of dust.

night holds us and her daydreams are
a forgotten song, and night is like

the streams of water that awaken with
summer and her cool rivers of air, night with

her paradise far from the gathering
of limb and ledge, far from the leaves

of the dusk where the shadows tremble and the
water turns itself into tears, and we hear the

ghosts cry to the pretty sky,
sometimes we hear the ghosts cry.